Opposing Allies
by Sunraia
Summary: In this AU no one is who they appear to be. Who can be trusted and who cannot? Rivalry is all they have left, and alignment is merely a well timed truce... Starring virtually the entire DBZ cast, plus a few originals here and there. DISCONTINUED
1. Many beginnings

Erasa sat at her desk in her bedroom, staring dreamily out of the window. A lazy streak of late afternoon sunlight beamed into her girlish room, but missed her by an inch. Engulfed in her thoughts, she chewed the end of her pencil, while tactfully neglecting to think of the homework spread out in front of her.

Somehow, she had never imagined her boyfriend to be like this. She always imagined herself at the side of a strong, silent and mysterious type of guy, someone only she had the privilege of knowing on a personal level. Perhaps even someone like her friend Gohan. Erasa would never have imagined she would end up falling deeply in love with their mutual friend Sharpner.

In a way, she never experienced Sharpner to be silent, let alone mysterious. But then again, Sharpner never talked freely of his home. He was a rich kid, and somehow seemed deeply ashamed of it. None the less, a limousine drove him to school every day.

She giggled.

Just two days ago, Sharpner had offered her a ride home in that fancy limo of his, not knowing this had been a fantasy of hers ever since she found out she loved him.

Surely, its insides must have been amazing, but Erasa never really caught a glimpse of it. From the moment they set foot inside, to the moment they pulled over at Erasa's house, they had been caught up in a passionate kiss.

"I love you," Sharpner had whispered.

"I love you too," Erasa had whispered back.

As Sharpner drove off, she vaguely noticed a widely grinning driver, and the windows seemed significantly darker than when she got in.

Since then, they were pretty much dating.

Suddenly, a yell yanked her down from her fluffy pink cloud.

"Erasa! Take Benny out for a walk, will you?" her mom yelled from down the staircase.

"Sure thing mom!" replied a cheerful Erasa.

Whistling a tune, she skipped every other step coming down the stairs, snatched Benny's leash, and cornered the chocolate labrador.

"C'me here, Benny," she cooed, "We're going for a walk!"

Benny instantly jumped out of his comfy basket, and twirled the smiling girl. Petting him non-stop, she managed to clip the leash to his collar.

"There's a good boy, Benny! Come on! Let's go!"

Grinning she sighed happily, and blew a kiss to the framed picture of her boyfriend. She was such a lucky girl. She practically skipped down the hallway, ignored her amused mother, and yanked the door open.

No, she thought. A coat would most definitely not be necessary.

And Erasa grinned. Her life was so perfect... Benny was playful, as if sensing her mood. Erasa laughed at his silly antics. Slowly her eyes turned to glassy. Again she went off dreaming of her boyfriend, walking the brown dog automatically.

"Um, excuse me? Miss?" a man brutally tugged Erasa out of her daydreaming. Surprised she noticed she was three blocks further along the road all ready.

"Do you happen to know where Orange Star High is?" the man inquired, poking his head out of the van.

"Orange Star High? Wow, you're a long way from home, mister!" Erasa laughed sympathetically. Benny didn't seem to notice the van at all, but found himself a nice tree to pee against instead.

Erasa dared a glance at the actual driver, but couldn't see him. Disappointed she settled for the man in the passenger's seat.

"Do you know where it is?" he pushed on.

"Well, sure I _know_, I _go_ there…" she mumbled out loud, "Um… Right, I suppose with a car you want to go straight ahead here for a while, then take the third, no, fourth, sorry, to your… right… And then you… just drive on until you get to the second roundabout, take that one left, and then… Well, I suppose it's best to just ask again when you get there…" she said, deeply ashamed of her lack of mapping skills.

By now Benny had finally seen the unknown vehicle, and resided in checking the wheels for unwarranted smells. Apparently he smelled _something_, because he let out a proud bark, wagging his tail.

Both Erasa and the man laughed at his simple joy.

"You know what," he tried, "Maybe you should drive along for a while, so you can show us."

Abruptly she felt her cheerful mood evaporate.

"No, no, I think I'll pass that!" she stuttered, "I can't leave Benny behind, you know…" Nervously, she attempted a smile, but failed horribly.

Backing up her statement, he stared at her, begging for a scratch behind the ears. She gave him one, but her heart wasn't behind it.

"Oh, come on…" he begged, too, "You seem to know it so well, you can prove you still know!"

"No, that's okay, I'll live. You'll find it, I'm sure."

She attempted to walk away, but the van slowly drove along with her. Somehow this frightened Benny, who tried to hide behind Erasa's legs.

"Miss? Miss?"

"Please leave me alone," she snapped, increasing her pace.

Finally picking up on something, Benny unearthed a low growl.

"Oh, come on, we only want your help!"

Now ignoring him completely, she increased her pace even more. The van followed.

"Miss!"

Her speed was making her pant as she continued to increase it. Benny was at a total loss, not sure whether to be happy with the prospect of running, or frightened of the fright his mistress was showing.

"Miss!"

"Go away!" she yelled, trying to sound under control.

"Please, miss!"

She broke into run.

Instantly the van's back door slid open, revealing three vicious looking men previously hidden. The man too got out and ran straight after her.

In an immediate response Benny pulled himself free and positioned himself between the men and Erasa, growling menacingly at the four men.

One of the men, holding a large stick, ruthlessly slammed him aside.

"I hate dogs," he needlessly supplied.

No longer daring to look back, Erasa ran up a driveway.

The men quickly followed.

"HELP! LET ME IN! ANYONE, LET ME IN!" she screamed hysterically, banging on a front door she had never even noticed before, "ANYONE!"

Strong arms grabbed her waist from behind.

Still screaming she lashed out at anything that could move, but a handkerchief was held over her nose and mouth, preventing her from making any more sound.

Feeling her muscles go strangely weak, she sensed the world turning black…

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Miles away, a young man in a suit walked up to an even younger woman dressed in a casual white T-shirt and black shorts. Covering her elegant hands were simple black biker gloves. Her long black hair was tied together in two loose pigtails.

"Miss Satan?" the man said rather than asked, "They have the girl. She is being brought here this moment. Do we still put her in the dungeons?"

"Yes," the teen replied, "I think it would suit her just fine. Has the boy been notified?"

"Happening this moment, miss."

"Very good," she said, and her eyes turned blank with thought. The man however boldly stayed put. Slowly this fact dawned on the girl.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" she snapped, "Get things ready for their arrivals!"

Still, he observed her with growing curiosity.

"Shouldn't you report to your father?" he finally asked.

She stared at him.

"You're new, aren't you?" she asked him rhetorically, "Very well, you may be right. Now go, please."

The young man performed a bow that showed he was indeed new, at least at showing respect to superiors, and left for the elevator.

The girl left as well, but went to a well-hidden staircase instead. The elevator couldn't reach the place she was heading for.

Next to the door that led to the stairway was some kind of doorbell, but the girl ignored it completely. Underneath it a shiny gold plaque said: "Hercule Satan, Chief Executive"

After a long climb the girl found herself in front of a huge oak door, which was, naturally, closed. Gathering courage, she knocked on the door.

Squealing was heard inside. By the sound of it, several women got out of some kind of water and ran for it. Then things went suspiciously quiet.

"Come in!" a deep male voice called.

The girl entered. There was no sign of the women, but the whole floor covered in wet footprints. In the back a huge Jacuzzi was bubbling. In front of it stood a broad man with an enormous bunch of afro-hair, with exception of a bald spot on top of his head. He was dripping wet, and was wearing a hastily slipped on bathrobe.

"Oh, it's you, Videl!" he nervously exclaimed, "Why don't you ever ring the bell before you drop in!"

Videl kept silent, standing tall but carefully evading her father's eyes.

He sighed.

"Okay, what's the matter?"

"The girl, Erasa, has been successfully kidnapped, sir. Her boyfriend is being notified this very moment."

"Good, good…" Hercule said, "… Well, surely that's not what you're here for?"

A quick nod made her pigtails fly briefly.

"I request full authority on the kidnapping."

Hercule sniggered.

"But Videl, you _have_ - "

"Official authority." she cut in.

He fiddled his robes. Then his face cleared up, jerking into an unnaturally large smile.

"Of course you can, sweetie! You know your old man can't deny you anything, right, pumpkin? If there's - "

"Sir, I'm working." she snapped, throwing him an angry glance, then staring at the wall behind him again.

Hercule seemed shocked, but recovered quickly.

"Of course, you're as right as always…" By now his smile looked particularly painful. "_Miss_…"

His beloved daughter bowed professionally, turned round and left. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she let the shudder she had been suppressing all along take over.

The last thing she had seen in that room, were three, maybe four curious women peeking around a corner. Three, maybe four _naked_ women.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

"I need a taxi!" a blonde boy desperately yelled into a mobile phone, "Now!"

Quickly, Sharpner stated his address.

"Please, I'll pay you double! Triple! Just come, NOW!"

He hung up the phone, and sank down into the carefully cultivated flowerbed just outside his father's villa.

In one hand, he held his cellphone.

In the other, he held a piece of paper.

The message had been simple, but painfully clear.

It showed a picture of Erasa, lying on a cement floor, unconsious, all tethered up, surrounded by heavily armed men.

Below it was an address.

The paper had been tied to a rock, used to smash his bedroom window.

Sharpner broke into tears.

Why on earth did they take Erasa? Did they want his father's money? They could have just taken him instead! What on earth could they want her for! She had nothing to do with anything! Nothing!

"NOTHING!" he screamed. He hated the world. He hated the entire world from within the depths of his heart.

She had done nothing.

"Sir…?" a voice dared ask.

Sharpner turned away from the man, crushing even more prised flowers.

"Are you all right, sir?"

Enraged, Sharpner tossed the piece of paper at him.

Silence prevailed momentarily.

"Good lord…" the man murmured in shock, "Good heavens, I should inform - "

"You're not telling anyone!" Sharpner snapped.

"But…"

"She'll be killed if you do!"

"It doesn't _say_ that…" he pushed on.

"See those men! It does!"

It fell silent around Sharpner again. He wasn't even sure the man was still there, when he spoke up again.

"So how is you lying here going to help?"

"I'm waiting for a cab!" he said angrily, turning around to face the man. Through his tears, he still couldn't recognise him.

"… And I didn't come to mind, sir?" Apparently, the servant had crouched to speak to him properly.

Sharpner wiped his eyes clean. Finally, he recognised the limo-driver.

By this time however the driver had already snatched his hands and jerked him up.

"Let's go!"

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

When Erasa reached consciousness, she found herself in a moist cell. There were no windows anywhere, and the pressing silence told her she had to be underground. A guard resembling much of a troll guarded the only door leading from the area her cage was, to what had to contain either freedom or death. She stood up, feeling strangely surprised she could move around freely within the boundaries of her cage after blacking out in the firm grips of several men. For what seemed to be hours she had cried, lingering in her own misery, when a girl her age entered the space linked to her prison.

"Oh my god…" she said, genuinely shocked, "They told me _someone_ would be here, but I never thought… I mean… You're…"

"Your age?" Erasa supplied, attempting a feint smile through her tears.

"Well… yeah!" she said apologetic, "Sorry, I'm Videl. Hercule Satan's daughter."

Videl closed her eyes, like she was about to take in a huge blow.

"Erasa," said Erasa.

Surprised, Videl opened one eye.

"You… you don't know?" she asked, her voice drowned in amazement.

"Know what?" Erasa asked confused. She was only vaguely aware of how her voice trembled.

"Oh, god…"

Videl started pacing. Confused beyond recognition, Erasa observed the bars flicking in front of the strange girl.

"I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you this, but…" Videl said uncomfortably, "Your boyfriend, Sharpner, he… He's not who he says he is. I'm sorry."

"What…!" Erasa stumbled. This wasn't happening… This was _not_…

"He's evil, Erasa."

Happening…?

"No!" she yelled, "No, he's a good guy, honestly!"

Videl eyed her sympathetically.

"I'm sorry…" she repeated.

Suddenly, a young man wearing a suit bolted thought the door. His relatively long black hair waved as he walked straight up to Videl.

He however swallowed whatever he had meant to say when he glanced at Erasa.

"Ginyu sends word." he said instead.

"Sharpner arrived? Already?" Videl replied.

"You just blew my cover." the man commented, frost crumbling from his voice.

"Sharpner is here?" Erasa cheered wild-eyed, "SHARPNER! SHARPNER, CAN YOU HEAR ME! I'M DOWN HERE! SHARPNER!"

"He can't hear you, you know," said Videl impatiently, showing a glimpse of a completely different woman. To erase the image, she threw in a caring smile.

Erasa shut up instantly. She was starting to trust this earnest girl, even though she was her enemy.

"Oh, sometimes I really HATE my father!" was Videl's sudden frustrated shout.

The man's eyes narrowed.

"He's having _me_ talk to Sharpner! Darn it, he _knows_ I hate doing his chores all the time!"

Again, she started to pace, staring angrily at her feet. Abruptly she stopped.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers in the air, "You, get a TV down here right away!"

The man bowed as slightly as humanly possible, twirled around the troll-like guard and left discreetly.

"Why do you…" Erasa started, but Videl silently hushed her.

Five uncomfortable minutes later, he returned, rolling in a large TV on a food trolley.

"Small lift." he simply said, considering that a perfectly valid apology.

"Well, thanks, anyway," Videl said, "You can leave now."

He bowed again, remarkably enough even slighter this time, and left.

Videl glared at the guard. The guard coughed.

"Should I, um…" he suggested.

"Guard the door from the _other _side? Yes, good man. Please."

A sudden chill ran down Erasa's spine.

Videl smiled contentedly as soon as the door closed, and Erasa understood. She had been playing a part, to get the man to do what she wanted.

Almost immediately after that, Videl nearly attacked the surveillance camera with wires that were poking out the back of the TV.

"Hang on, almost there…" she muttered, and Erasa wondered whether it was addressed to her, or to herself.

Videl prodded the last plug into the camera. Then, the TV popped on, and showed a _very_ close-up of Videl, who was still checking for loose ends.

"What are you doing?" Erasa dared ask.

"-ng?" the TV echoed.

"Keeping you posted," both Videl and her TV-image clarified, and she moved out of the camera's sight in order to climb back down.

For a moment she thought, then she resolutely typed '47' on the TV's number pad. A deserted entrance-hall popped into view.

"Huh? Weird…"

Numbers '6' and '1' were pressed. The hall now disappeared to make room for what seemed to be a lounge. In it sat a blond teenage boy, showing a variety of nervous ticks.

"Sharpner!" Erasa exclaimed.

Videl tonelessly hummed something that might have been a confirmation.

"I wish he'd say something," she added, "Now I don't knowwhether the sound's working."

Both girls stared at the screen for a few moments, but when Sharpner didn't so much as sigh, Videl sighed for him, and turned back to face Erasa.

"Well," she resentfully complied, "I have to go, before _Captain_ Ginyu…" She spoke the name with clear disgust. "… goes berserk. I'll be - "

"… Have been here by now! What's KEEPING her so long!" someone cursed.

"Miss Satan has been _delayed_." someone else replied irritated. It seemed to be the young man from earlier. Erasa realised that the voices were coming from the TV speakers, yet besides Sharpner, she couldn't see anyone.

"She will arrive when she is _ready_." the young man continued. His voice grew louder.

"When SHE is ready!" the first voice sneered, "For Kami's sake, it's about time that girl is taught some RESPONSIBILI - "

The door to the lounge swung open, showing a broad horned man, dressed in a security outfit, stopping in his tracks to stare at Sharpner.

" - ty… What's _he_ doing _here_? Wasn't he in the entrance hall?"

Behind him appeared the black haired man in the suit.

"It would appear not," he said, suppressing a grin.

Sharpner looked from one to the other, trying to find out whether either of them was even supposed to be there.

"The boy was not supposed to hear any of this!" the horned man fumed.

"Then let's go, Captain Ginyu, before he realises what he's hearing!" replied the other, now trying to control his sniggering.

Still furious, Captain Ginyu left the lounge.

"What…" Sharpner tried.

The young man however stared straight into the camera, looking two confused girls in the eye.

"Test, test." he said plainly, and left.

Back in the damp cell, Videl muttered: "Impatient frog!"

Quickly recovering from her clairvoyant moment, she continued: "Well, at least now I know the sound is working just fine. As I were saying, I'll be back soon, hopefully with a _key_."

She nodded a friendly goodbye to Erasa.

"Hang in there!" she added, and left. The security guard gave her five seconds, then sneaked back to his post on the _right_ side of the door.

Erasa sighed. This way, Sharpner seemed so innocent. In fact, he had always appeared to be naive and gullible. Could she really believe Sharpner was… evil?

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

"Sound check work out all right?" the young man asked as he and Videl made way to the lounge.

"Perfect. I take it you pre-set the TV?" Videl asked back.

"Are you mad? I had 19 do it."

"And made a fuss with Ginyu on purpose?"

"_He_ made a fuss. I just led him there."

Videl stopped in her tracks. The young man, too, stopped, eyeing Videl most curiously.

"You, sir…?"

"17."

"Android?"

"Yes." 17 said chilly.

"You, Seventeen, are among the most brilliant minds I have ever come across." said Videl, with actual admiration in her voice.

"Thank you. That would be a list of…?"

Videl smiled.

"Well, for one, _Ginyu_ won't be on it!"

The pair continued their path through the huge complex.

"Miss Satan…?" Seventeen ventured.

"_Why_ did you plant the camera? I could identify your plan, but your course of action does not comply to any strategic data I have installed. Can I conclude you are helping the enemy, and thus a spy?"

"In English?"

"Why, you traitor." he effectively concluded.

A somewhat disturbing smile formed on Videl's lips.

"Simple. I just planted a mole."


	2. Some endings

Sharpner eyes were void as he stared at his hands, which were firmly mutilating the kidnap-note. He had been doing so ever since the two strange men had left him to himself again.

When Videl arrived, she, too, held her tongue. Instead of speaking, she sat down across from Sharpner, observing him with cold interest.

Finally Sharpner released the remains of the meaningful piece of paper and sunk his head in his hands in defeat.

"Why?" he whispered, voice hoarse of sorrow.

Videl didn't answer.

"Why?" he repeated, "She never hurt a fly!"

"But you did," Videl icily commented. She didn't seem to feel the need to hide her silently blaming him.

"No!" cried Sharpner, "How on earth could I hurt anyone and then just go back to Erasa like nothing happened? I never did no harm to anyone! You have absolutely no right to hold her prisoner!"

"You?" spat Videl, "Never harmed a soul?"

Suddenly the ice was shattered to make way for a raging fire, lit by Sharpner's attempt to clear his name.

"You think I don't know what you and your father did to us?" she furiously continued, "Trust me, I would gladly be the one to _strangle_ you, but my father won't let me. Surrender to us your father, Sharpner, if you ever want to see Erasa again!"

Completely shocked Sharpner stared through his tears at this mad girl in front of him. Clearly this girl hated his guts with all her heart. And for what? What could he have possibly done to hurt her this much? Did his father drive her family bankrupt or something? But this place was huge! She had to be loaded!

"You're wrong!" he exclaimed, "I've never seen you before in my life! I don't even know who you are!"

Videl eyed him with a glare that promised long and painful suffering.

"Does 'Videl Satan' ring any bells?"

"No!" shouted Sharpner, "Look, if this is about money, I can get you that, but don't go wrongly accusing me of I-don't-know-what-you're-accusing-me-of!"

"You don't? Want me to give you the highlights of what you did to us?" Videl barked at him.

"Be my guest!" Sharpner barked right back.

"When you were six years old," she began, "Your father told you of his plans to assassinate our military advisor, Frieza. You, _age six_, were fine with that, so your father went through with it."

"What?" yelled Sharpner, "You're insane! My father never killed any-"

"He gave orders to!" interrupted a fuming Videl.

"About two years later," she continued, "We had finally found a new military advisor. Garlic Junior. Again, your precious dad came to you with his latest murder plot. You rejected his idea. Instead, you suggested that he would be trapped in his own Death-Zone."

"A _what_? Listen, I don't even know what a Death-Zone-"

"Seven years ago!" shouted Videl, making Sharpner's protest inaudible, "You and your buddy Gohan plotted against Cell!"

"Gohan? You're mad! I didn't even _know_ Gohan yet!"

"Enthusiastic as he is, Gohan also took care of Cell's seven young children!" roared Videl.

Sharpner shook his head in disbelief.

"That's impossible…" he muttered, "Gohan is almost like a kid himself at times…"

"Yeah, right!" Videl swept his words away, "He's just as bad as his father, Goku! I can't even _begin _to tell you how many of our people _he_ killed!"

She stood up, and walked away from Sharpner, facing the wall.

"And five years ago, age thirteen, you planned your first solo murder. She was just some random woman who enjoyed working with us."

Finally, she paused her long rampage long enough for Sharpner to squeeze in a decent reply:

"Look, you psycho!" he said in a pissed off manner, "I don't have anything to do with any of this! Now, would you just let my girlfriend go and we can all go home!"

At that, Videl turned around and stared him in the face. Suddenly he spotted tears in her eyes.

With trembling voice she said: "That woman was my mother!"

This time, no protest came from Sharpner's dumbstruck mouth.

Videl ran off, crying.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Driver Tom was in his limo. Correction: driver Tom was in his boss's limo. But driver Tom's boss had been driver Tom's boss for so long, that driver Tom considered it to be his own limousine.

Right now, driver Tom was anxious. He didn't know why he put up with waiting here, not knowing. However, what he did know was that he was most definitely in a lose-lose situation.

Driver Tom was not supposed to leave the boy unprotected at any time. But driver Tom was not allowed inside the huge place he was waiting in front of, either. In fact, driver Tom was to ensure the boy never even knew of the existence of the people in that building.

Of course, this gets a little hard to hide when they kidnap his girlfriend. Plus, he was also restricted never to refuse a direct order, and Sharpner most definitely ordered him to take him there.

And if, however unlikely, such an occasion actually presented itself, driver Tom was to inform his boss immediately. But the boy said no.

Driver Tom still hadn't made that call.

Driver Tom sighed.

He had broken every protocol he had ever been taught. And had he acted any differently, he would have screwed up the entire mission anyway.

The boy was never to suspect a thing.

Yeah, sure.

If he didn't get the picture _now_, someone ought to break the news to his dad that the kid wouldn't be going to law-school after all.

Driver Tom still hadn't made that call.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

In the very top of the Satan Corporation, a large comfortable suite had been adjusted to suit Hercule Satan's every need.

Well, almost his every need.

His daughter Videl had requested a room in a different part of the building.

Naturally, she got it straight away. Hercule spoiled his sweet daughter way too much. He knew that. Hell, he paid the price for it every day. But that still didn't give him the guts to try and discipline her. Odds were, she'd declare him senile and have him locked away.

All for his own good, of course.

Somehow, he just knew she felt love for him, deep inside.

_Very_ deep inside.

If not, he'd probably be locked away already.

And perhaps it would even do him good. Perhaps it would awaken the flame inside of him that hadn't burned for such a long time. Long ago, he had felt such passion for his work. But as his love was killed, his passion died with her. Even now he missed her with all his heart.

He tried to forget his sorrow by surrounding himself with other women, but it wasn't the same. It would never be the same. And Videl had changed forever.

Maybe, just maybe, if she was still alive, Videl could have turned out to be a normal teenager, with normal feelings.

She's only seventeen years old.

She shouldn't have to long for vengeance.

She shouldn't have to hate him.

That was probably the only part of her that wasn't exactly like her mother. And yet, it reminded him of his late wife more than any resemblance the two could possibly show.

The bell rang.

Hercule quickly pulled his bathrobe tighter to his body, before he walked over to the intercom.

"Who is it?" he asked, trying his best to sound important.

There was some giggling on the other side of the intercom.

"_It's US_! _Let us back in_, _please_!" some girl cooed.

Yes. Yes, that was just what he needed. To forget…

"Okay, come on up, ladies!"

He turned the intercom back off, and sank into his beloved leather chair. Within seconds, the girls would reach his suite, and they would be able to clear his mind. They always managed to take his mind off of his problems, and they always would. He didn't know what he would do without them…

The giggling on the stairs grew louder as the girls climbed step after step.

The doorbell rang again.

Instantly the giggling stopped, and by the sounds of it, they headed back down to see who it was.

Cursing under his breath, Hercule got back up and pressed the intercom button again.

"Who is it?" he asked, again relying on his important-voice.

"_Seventeen_, _sir_. _It's about your daughter_."

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

She was still crying when she stormed past Erasa's guard, and in truth she didn't care. She no longer cared about anything. Let her cry. Let her show her weaknesses. So what it could destroy the image she worked so hard to build? She didn't care anymore. Her mom was dead, and nothing could ever change it! Countless murders couldn't even out the score. Nothing could weigh up to the loss she had suffered.

Blurred by her tears, and hazed by her sorrow, Videl hardly noticed what happened after storming past that guard. She could sense someone cradling her, but whose arms held her was of no importance. They were not her mom's. And that was all that counted to her. Cold iron bars were pressed between her and the other, as cold iron bars stood between Videl and her father. Only mother had the key. And mother was lost now. All was lost now. Just standing there - or was she sitting? - brought back memories of a song long forgotten. She couldn't grasp the melody. She couldn't recall the words. And yet a voice sang in her mind, telling her not to worry. Telling her not to be afraid. But she _did _worry! She _was_ afraid!

Videl sobbed even louder, and it wasn't until then she realised not only her cheeks were wet, but so was her shoulder. The other had to be crying too, but she didn't stop to linger at the thought. She wanted to hear, she wanted to listen… Drown in the song she used to know…

"Videl!" bellowed a deep voice even before the door banged open.

In shock she stood up in a flash - so she _had _been sitting? - and in shock the voice that sang to her fled. In her mind a gate banged shut, and the sound infuriated her.

"FINE!" she roared, "I'LL GO BACK, IF YOU WANT IT THAT BADLY!"

Again she stormed past Erasa's guard, heading the other way this time.

Hercule stared at her, amazed at her outburst, of maybe just amazed all together. The door slamming in his face however snapped him back to reality.

Paying no attention whatsoever to either guard or Erasa he commenced pursuit.

For three hallways he followed her, occasionally calling out her name, when abruptly she spun round and marched right at him.

"Listen to me, you sick good-for-nothing coward!" she spat at him in a low hiss, "Don't you _ever_, _EVER _humiliate me like that again!"

Her father opened his mouth, but not even the slightest gasp escaped his lungs.

"_You_ may cut yourself some slack after a whole minute of working, but when I'm working, I'm _working_! You had _no_ reason to barge in like that!"

Hercule started to slowly back away, still incapable of breathing, but Videl threateningly followed.

"And ignoring the fact that you _even_ gave me _full authority_, I wasn't even _really_ losing it! I was bloody _manipulating _them!"

With a thud that finally released the air clotted up in Hercule's lungs, he bumped into the wall.

"So _now_," A rather disturbing glint had appeared in Videl's eyes. "_She's_ in there thinking I'm telling the truth, _he's_ in there thinking his dad's a jerk, and _I'm_ in _here_, _wasting_ my _time_ with the likes of _YOU_!"

Slowly it dawned on Videl that her father was looking down at her with downright _panic_. A strange, uncontrollable grin forced it's way out from the back of her mind.

And then she left.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Slowly, very slowly, driver Tom's eyes drifted to the hands-free set installed just a few inches from his steering wheel.

He _still _hadn't made that call.

Actually, he figured, whether or not he made that call was a matter of where his loyalty lay. Did it lie with Sharpner, the young boy he had been personally assigned to for the last two years? Or was his boss the one he considered his true superior?

Tom was suddenly hit with the irony of the matter. Surely he, who had gone through a full year of training to finally get the job he always dreamed of, wasn't actually considering a teenage boy to be his boss? And to make matters even worse, the kid never had to climb his way up, like Tom had. He was just born at the very top.

He had no envy for the kid, though. Not really. After all, it's never easy to lose a parent at such young age.

Tom Kendall grinned widely, stopping his thoughts in mid-track. As he thought about it, the same counted for _both_ his bosses.

And that had absolutely nothing to do with whether he, Tom Kendall, was referred to as 'driver Tom' or 'agent Kendall'.

Agent Kendall really _should_ be making that call.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Despite all of the simple wisdoms Sharpner had grown up with, Sharpner never formed any of his own. He never had a best friend, second-best friend, or worst enemy. He never really drew the line between friends and friendly people. He never understood the fine line between liking and loving. And he never, ever, compared his love for one person to his love for another.

So how could he decide? How could he _possibly_ decide whom he loved more? His lover and his father… Both were friends to him, yet both were more than that. How was he supposed to scale his love?

Should he measure it by how long he had loved them? But that was hardly fair. After all, he had only met Erasa two years ago, when he and his father moved to West City.

Then should he measure it by how they made him feel? Somehow, that didn't seem very fair, either. He could never experience the butterflies that drove him wild just being with his father.

So how could he decide? How could he possibly decide which of the two he loved the least? How could he choose which of the two he hated the most?

It was clear that if the strange girl with the tomboyish appearance would have picked Sharpner to take the lethal blow. And apparently, no one he had ever trusted should be trusted. All but Erasa.

So was that the best argument? Should he save Erasa because of her innocence? Should he sentence his father to death because of his guilt?

What could his father possibly be guilty of? He bought and resold jewellery, of all things. The only gun he ever saw was pointed straight at him. No, his father was no murderer.

But then again, neither was Sharpner. And _someone_ killed those people.

Those people…

Buried deep away in his memory, a pistol was pointed straight at Sharpner. A little boy, barely three, who didn't even understand what it meant to be dead, just staring with his big brown eyes into the barrel of the gun. A woman screamed in despair. Men with masks screamed back at her. She lifted Sharpner up into the air, clutching on to him so tight he could hardly breath. She tried to avoid his eyes, to prevent him from seeing things no one should have to look upon. Sharpner had to look upon his father being tortured. Sharpner had to look upon the bitter resistance that shone in his blue eyes, that grew with every kick he received. And again Sharpner had to look upon the barrel of the gun. A shot was fired. Sharpner, still clutched in his mother's arms, fell as she herself collapsed. All resistance in his father's eyes died as instantly as his mother did. From that moment on, Sharpner understood what it meant to be dead. He understood what it was like to look right into the smoking barrel of a gun.

Finally, Sharpner made up his mind. His father was no murderer. Even if he had killed _those_ _people_, that made him no murderer. It even made him more innocent than Erasa.

His father had no more resistance of his own. Sharpner would be that resistance. Finally, after all those years, someone stood up and stopped the torture that never ceased, not even after _those_ _people_ were long dead and buried.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Back in the limousine, agent Kendall's hands were beginning to itch. If he didn't make that call any time soon, that Sharpner kid could very well be killed. In fact, he might already be dead. And as for that cute girlfriend of his…

He hesitated. As for that cute girlfriend of his, she would most likely die the moment he made that call. But the longer he waited, the less chance of survival they _all_ had.

Finally, Tom decided to go through with it, and picked up the phone.

Moments later a female voice sighed:

"_Saiyan Enterprise_, _please verify name_, _rank_,_ and reason for contact_…"

"Agent Kendall, field operative," he barked back, "I must speak with the chief executive!"

The woman on the other end of the line paused briefly.

"_But sir_,_ I'm not authorised to _- " she struggled, but she was interrupted.

"It's very important!"

"_Sir_, _even so_, _he is in a meeting_, _you will _have_ to call back later_!"

"No, I need to speak with him right now! It's a matter of life and death!"

She hesitated a bit longer.

"… _I'll put you through right now_, _sir_. _One moment please_."

Tom waited one moment.

And another.

Impatient, he tapped the steering wheel.

Irritated, he opened the window.

Annoyed, he retrieved the phone from the hands-free set and put it on normal mode.

Shocked, he looked aside to see a gun was pointed straight at him through the open window.

The man spoke no words as he held out his hand for the phone.

Tom, who knew when to recognise defeat, silently gave it to him.

Putting the phone to his ear, he waited.

"Hello," he stated after a short while, "Who is this?"

The other person answered, and the man nodded.

"Yah, I thought it would be you." he said in a bored manner, and hung up.

Carelessly, he discarded the phone in the bushes behind him.

Still threatening with his pistol, he opened the door for Tom, who sighed and followed the redhead.

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Seventeen was already waiting for Videl when she finally got back from her final talk with Sharpner.

"So," he said, "Should we release the girl yet?"

"Can't." Videl barked.

She stomped off in the direction of the dungeons.

Following closely, Seventeen nodded.

"Should we shoot her then?" he suggested.

Slowly, Videl shook her head.

"Find me someone who can act."

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Amazed the chief executive of Saiyan Enterprise put down the phone, taking a moment's time to recap what had just happened.

He had been assured that this phone-call was a life and death matter, but the stranger on the other end had simply asked his name and hung up. It bugged him. It wasn't right. In fact, it was very, _very_ wrong.

"Who was this?" the chief executive barked at the receptionist.

Scanning through her notes, she said: "Agent Kendall, sir, field operative."

"What is his placement?"

"He's assigned to safeguarding Sharpner, sir. Stapler's kid…?" she ventured.

"Yes, yes, I know who he is…" the man said annoyed, not bothering to state who he meant.

His eyes moved left and right very quickly, then widened.

"Locate the call! Inform Defence immediately! Get the tape to them, I want Longhorn to check the call for a set-up… And contact Offence, too! Now!"

Nervous the receptionist scribbled down all the orders.

"But sir," she courageously interfered her bosses rampage, "Agent Longhorn cannot interpret voice samples…"

"THEN FIND SOMEONE WHO CAN!" he fumed.

She hastily bowed, and left.

Within moments, people were flowing in and out of the office, keeping him posted of progress.

"We're trying to reach Agent Kendall, sir. He's not answering."

"Agent Greene confirms the call, sir. Agent Kendall has been taken captive, presumably by Satan."

"We're trying to locate Agent Kendall's limousine sir, but we haven't had any luck yet."

"Sir, I'm afraid the vehicle is untraceable. It's probably in some sort of warehouse."

"Bad new, sir! We located the phone's signal, it's at the Satan Manor!"

"SATAN MANOR?" roared the chief executive, "Whip up a convoy! We're leaving NOW!"

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

Erasa was dead.

Technically, her vital organs were all functioning just fine, but Erasa knew inside she had died.

Sharpner betrayed her.

Sharpner sentenced her to death.

Erasa was dead.

Knowing that had calmed her.

Her final tear had already flown, she had emitted her dying gasp.

And now she was simply an empty body waiting to be buried.

Little activity resided in her brain.

She was still looking at the TV-screen. Sharpner had broken into tears of desperation. Not that Erasa really cared. He killed her. Now it was eating him inside.

She could see that.

The lack of activity in her own brain allowed her to pick up on the brainwaves of others.

She noticed the guard watching her with vague interest.

She knew why he showed no more reaction than that. He had seen plenty of people die already. Presumably he had killed more than a few himself. He was probably just wondering why she had stopped screaming.

Dead people didn't scream.

Dead people stared.

Erasa stared at Sharpner's image.

Yes, the simple fact that he killed her was too much for him to bear.

Strange.

If Videl was right, if Sharpner really did kill people in the same way he had killed her, he should be able to deal with it. Then perhaps he really _wasn't _responsible for their deaths. Unless, of course, he couldn't deal with this because he knew her personallly.

Not that Erasa cared.

He killed her.

She briefly looked up when Videl walked in, then resumed staring at Sharpner.

"God…" Videl whispered hoarsely, "I am _so_ sorry, Erasa…"

Videl blamed herself for not convincing Sharpner to surrender his father instead of abandoning Erasa.

But Erasa didn't blame her. Videl tried her best, and failed.

She realised all this in an instant, but she couldn't move herself to even blink.

"I'm sorry…" Videl croaked.

The air was thick with emotions, yet Erasa was a void.

One moment or the next, Erasa would snap out of this surreal calm. Someone would say the wrong thing, make the wrong movements… And then Erasa would snap. She knew that. She didn't dread the moment; she felt nothing but vaguely bewondered at her clear insights. Sooner rather than later, she would collapse.

The moment she realised this, the door to the damp dungeon slammed open.

"Good afternoon, Miss Satan!" the man merrily greeted Videl, "Lovely weather today, isn't it?"

He closed the door a bit louder than necessary, and put his suitcase on the floor.

"Is it?" the troll-like guard said grimly.

Opening the suitcase so that Erasa couldn't see the insides, the redhead looked up at the guard.

"Been inside all day, have you?" he said, taking out a strange looking metal tube, "Oh, you poor man!"

Erasa just stood staring at the odd scene.

"Well," the guard grunted, "I blame Ginyu. Never liked the fellow."

The redhead grabbed another tube and attached it to the first.

"Don't we all?" he grinned.

Skilled he put together the rest of the rifle, and straightened up.

"So!" he said to Erasa, who was still staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, "Where would you like it? Head? Heart? …Guts? Personally, I don't advise it, but some people like to have their dying words, you know…"

As the words rang through to her she felt her emotions surge back into her mind with all the intensity they had been building up. She tried desperately to gasp, but she couldn't breath in, she couldn't breath at all. Her heart went mad and ice cold chills spread all over her body. Tears welled up again.

"You're going to kill me!" she whimpered, and her body froze. One searing hot tear warmed her face.

Surprised, the redhead blinked.

"Really?" he overreacted his surprise, "I don't get to shoot the boss' daughter?"

Involuntarily Videl took a rather big step back.

"Aw, shoot!" the man joked, then instantly straightened his face as he brought the gun up to aim.

"So," he said, "Chest, then?"

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

In a distant part of the Satan Manor, not one human heart was beating. There were, however, some hydraulic pumps at work.

"So you'll do it?" asked 17.

20 hesitated.

"It's a bit little to work with." he said.

"Are you saying the material I offered is insufficient?" said 17. There was a threat in his calm exterior, and neither 20 nor 19 failed to notice it.

"Of course not!" 20 said quickly, "I just mean to say it's rather short notice! I don't think I can build another robot that fast!"

"With all due respect, sir," said 19, "We do have an alternative."

"No!" spat 20, "16 is faulted! I will not reactivate him until he is fixed!"

"I thought you'd say that," 17 remarked, "But that's not the only option."

20, also known as Dr. Gero, got a distant look.

"I'd have to replace a good deal of the interior by smaller versions," he noted, mainly to himself.

"So you'll do it?" 17 asked again.

20 and 19 shared a look.

"Yes, we'll do it."

"Great. You have approximately one hour."

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

When Gareth Johnson followed Miss Satan out of the damp dungeon, his head still hurt.

"It still hurts!" he whined, "Couldn't you at least have used your bare hands?"

"I had to stop you _somehow_," Videl remarked coolly.

"Come on! I can _fake_ a headache, no need to give me a _real_ one!"

"Well," Videl professionally ignored Gareth's complaints, "I have to hand it to you, I was expecting some psycho to wave around his machinegun screaming 'Die! Die! All of you!' Luckily, you saved our good name."

"Yeah," Gareth muttered under his breath, "Luckily _you_ didn't have a _bat _lying around!"

"I heard that," grinned Videl, and she took a turn left towards the lounge, where Sharpner was.

Gareth Johnson kept going straight ahead, greeting the few people he met along the way. Just a friendly nod did that; most people he actually _recognised _weren't in today. With the current operation, a lot of the high profile employees chose to stay at home, fearing the risk of being recognised. Gareth's own group of friends ignored this and did their job anyway. Most of them weren't stationed at the Satan Manor, so to them it made no difference whatsoever.

Of course, _Gareth_ wasn't given any field jobs anymore. He had _signed up_ as a field operative, but now Captain Ginyu was drilling him like any other security guard. And why? Because he called Ginyu an ugly frog. _Once_. Talk about hypocrite!

He reached a big double door, and put his hand on a small sensor next to it. After a short scan of his hand, the door opened automatically. Once he had passed through, it sealed itself again.

Ignoring the road, Johnson stabbed through the transparent stretch of forest and turned onto the huge lawn that surrounded the huge manor. He crossed a straight line to a well-concealed building near the property's outer walls.

He wondered what papa's girl had in store for the blonde youngster. He knew, of course, that the blonde youngster was the hostage. They'd been trying to tackle the Saiyans by capturing Stapler, one of their most trusted members. As long as they had him, they'd have power over the Saiyan Enterprise. But Stapler was a _very_ well protected man. Papa's girl, Videl Satan, had suggested going for his son, who was about her age, but unfortunately, he'd been just as well protected. Better, even. So his girlfriend turned out to be a nice alternative.

It had all gone rather quickly from that moment on, and being on sentry duty didn't help staying up to date now that developments moved faster than gossip.

Had Sharpner given in yet? Was he really going help them set the trap for his dad? So why was Gareth summoned to act as executioner? And why, he wondered, did no one seem to come to the idea of simply using the boy as the new hostage? It seemed almost too simple to even work. But surely it would be easy? They had him right now anyway. They could easily keep him and send word to his father. Would his father fall for the very same trick?

"Johnson! You're back. Get to your post." Captain Ginyu suddenly barked at him.

Though he stayed perfectly calm as he saluted and left the building again, the sudden command had startled him half to death. He hadn't even noticed entering the Captain's office.

Once outside again he marched straight up to a specific spot along the road, hidden between the bushes. It gave him enough cover to get within 4 feet from the road without being spotted.

And then he waited.

Actually, in the last month or so Agent Gareth Johnson had spent so much time pretending to be a mindless sentry, who's only thoughts concerned debatable movements in his surroundings, he had now mastered the ability to shut off all his thoughts but those which concerned debatable movements in his surroundings. It was sort of a natural defence against boredom. Often he stayed in this state of mind and this physically uncomfortable position for at least three hours on end.

This time round, it lasted for three minutes rather than three hours.

What broke his concentration was a loud set of screaming tires.

Shortly after Johnson spotted a familiar-looking black limousine coming straight at him.

In a flash he recognised the driver.

"Hey!" he called, leaving his cover, "Hey, stop!"

The driver, too, recognised who he was up against, and increased his speed.

"HEY!"

The limo zoomed past.

"STOP!"

Encouraged by adrenaline, Gareth broke in to a run.

"STOP!" he shouted again.

He heard running behind him, voices shouting at him.

The distance between him and the vehicle was growing vastly.

Encouraged by adrenaline, Gareth upped his speed, regardless of the fact he could never catch up.

"HEY!"

Another car zoomed past him. This one he recognised as one of their own.

"STOP, DAMNIT!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

When a third car caught up with him, he finally gave up.

"Hey, wait up!" a blur of blonde yelled desparetely, shooting past him.

Panting, Videl levelled with him as both Johnson and she pulled to stop.

"That was his ride, wasn't it?" she asked him.

"Yes, miss Satan," he panted.

Further along the road, Sharpner finally gave up and trotted back.

When he arrived, agent Johnson had finally caught his breath again.

"Who were following?"

"Oh, some of our own," Videl waved the question away, not wanting Sharpner to hear names.

Johnson nodded.

"You're sure it was the same guy driving?"she asked him.

Another guard came towards them.

"Positive. I tried to take him in before, so I was able to recognise him. Clearly he managed to escape after all." he answered, looking down at the ground in shame.

From a distance the android 17 came running their way.

Videl's eyes narrowed.

"Smiths," she said to the guard that just arrived, still glaring at android 17, "Take the boy and drive him home. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," the man said bowing, and purposefully directed Sharpner into the bushes just before 17 arrived.

"Was that him?" he asked right away.

Both he and Videl looked at Johnson, who had the sense to wait for Sharpner to leave hearing range.

"No, we have him in custody. That was agent Young."

"Good," said 17.

Videl remained silent.

"Was this because of the phone?" 17 asked.

Agent Johnson bowed his head in shame.

"Yes, sir, very likely. It was stupid of me to leave it lying around, and I deeply apologise for my error."

17 ignored the apology.

"Why are you letting them off the hook? The opposition will think us weak." he said directly to Videl.

Videl remained silent, and chose to direct her death glare to a bush some feet away.

"We should at least shoot the girl," he continued, "And maybe the boy, too, to make a point. For someone who rules over the entire Satan Corporation, you're disgustingly soft."

Gareth coughed loudly.

"What!" 17 barked at him.

"Oh, nothing, sir," he said nonchalantly, "I just thought the lady answered to no one but her father, that's all. I realise now that clearly you also stand above Videl Satan, someone who rules over the entire Satan Corporation."

17 gave him a death glare perfectioned by his status of inhumanity.

"Leave us," he said coldly.

"No!" Videl interrupted, "Stay!"

Furiously she turned to the android.

"First off, you've been out of order for the last _seven years_! You have _no idea_ how we run the Corporation nowadays! And with you being reactivated for an amazing total of _two_ _days_, I don't know where you gathered the idea you were even allowed to present your opinion to me, let alone _judge_ me! And _finally_!"

She paused for breath.

"If you turn against me _ever again_, I will personally _melt_ you _chip—by—chip_!"

"You were breaking down crying in the arms of our hostage. I had every right to doubt your… abilities."

"Really? Then I hereby strip you from the privilege to express any form of doubt over me, even if it were to your _diary_!"

He eyed her meaningfully, and then looked at Johnson.

'_See what I mean_?' his eyes said.

"OR SHOW IT!"

His eyes seething, Seventeen performed a bow only just enough to be visible to the human eye, and left.

Finally Videl turned to agent Johnson.

"You've got talent," she said approvingly, "Ever considered a position as field operative?"

"I am, miss."

"Oh!" she said surprised, "Never mind then."

**oo0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0oo**

It wasn't raining when Sharpner was crudely shoved out of the car.

The car didn't drive off through a puddle, splashing him with filthy brownish rainwater.

The clouds didn't rumble when he walked to his front door, nor were they so grey it was nearly black.

Lightning didn't strike the very moment he turned the key.

Sharpner wasn't soaking wet, and needn't take off his raincoat.

He might as well have been soaking. It felt like it. Chills ran freely over his body, and his knees trembled oddly.

Drops of rain didn't slowly slide down his cheeks to swiftly drop down from his chin. Tears did.

Inside of him, thunder roared.

"Dad!" he called out, desperately trying to hide his desperation.

Thunder didn't sound again.

"Dad!" he yelled again, sadly failing to hide his sorrow.

A confused Stapler Skool emerged from his study. His features softened notably when he saw his son's tearful eyes.

Soaking hair would have completed the picture, but it hadn't been raining.

"Come here…" Stapler whispered, welcoming the blonde boy into his arms.

"Erasa!" he sobbed heartbreakingly.

Stapler hushed him.

"Don't speak…" he said consolingly, "It's alright…"

It might as well have been raining. Both were getting rather wet now, anyway.

Lovingly the father stroked the son's head.

"You'll find someone else…" he comforted, thinking his son had merely been dumped.

Sharpner rudely shoved him away.

Pain was evident in his eyes, as anger and betrayal lay beneath it.

"She's _dead_, dad!" he yelled at Stapler, "They _killed_ her!"

Shocked his father pulled him near again, gently pushing his head on his shoulder.

"Who did?" he asked breathlessly, fearing the truth.

Sharpner just clutched his shirt tighter.

"They killed her…" he sobbed, his legs failing.

He was allowed to silently cry for moments more.

"Where's Tom?" Stapler snapped.

"I don't know!" Sharpner cried, "He just took off!"

Stapler made a decision he knew had to be made.

"Sharpner," he said, his voice now almost hollow, "You have to leave."

Sharpner pulled back and stared him in the eyes.

"Wha-" he stumbled, "Why…?"

"Listen to me!" his father stopped him, "Think twice before you distrust someone, think twice as much before you _do_ trust them!"

Not understanding, Sharpner shook his head.

Understanding all too well, Stapler shook his son.

"Remember this, Sharpner! You've got to have _balls_, son! You've got to have _balls_!"

"I don't…" he uttered.

"Remember it! You've got to keep faith, and you've got to have balls! Now GO!"

Sharpner inhaled haltingly.

"No! Dad!" he pleaded.

"GO!"

He hesitated.

"NOW!"

Finally Sharpner walked to the door, stalling terribly.

His father sighed.

"Son?" he said, fatherly once more.

Hopefully his son turned around.

"Be careful what you wish for."

Sharpner nodded hesitatingly, more confident then.

"RUN!" Stapler added.

It wasn't raining.

It wasn't rain that soaked Sharpner's face and shirt.

It wasn't cold that made him shiver.

It wasn't ordinary wind that pushed him to the ground.

It wasn't ordinary lightning that struck his house.

It weren't the trees howling in the wind.

It wasn't lightning.

It was a bomb.

And it weren't just Sharpner's dreams that went down in the flames.

Dazed he shoved the other off of him and ran back to his house.

The other ran after him, stopped him, held him back.

"DAD!" he screamed, wrestling his 'rescuer'.

"DAD!"

His 'rescuer' received a vicious blow in the stomach, and Sharpner ran on.

Recovering quickly, the other followed again and tackled him.

"_DAD_!"

"No, you stupid idiot!" the other snarled, "You're _not_ going back in there!"

More came to help restrain Sharpner.

"_DAD_!" he screamed again, viciously swiping and kicking at the other men.

Making a harsh decision, the first slapped him hard in the face.

Finally Sharpner blinked away his tears to look at the witnesses of this brute murder.

"Gohan!" he exclaimed shocked.

"No shit, Sherlock!" the other snapped, tending to his painful stomach.

Faceless people helped them both up.

"So you're… They aren't… She _wasn't_ lying!" Sharpner rambled.

"Who?" Gohan asked interestedly, but quickly shook it off, "No time to talk, we've got to get you out of here!"

"NO!" Sharpner yelled, surprising everyone, "Everyone I love _DIED _today! I'm _NOT_ leaving until you answer some _QUESTIONS_!"

A shot was fired.

Sharpner was missed by an inch.

"Tough luck!" Gohan yelled, and dragged him to one of the three black cars waiting.

More shots were heard.

Someone screamed.

Someone fell.

People shot back.

Sharpner was insensitively shoved into the vehicle, Gohan following closely.

"Go!" he yelled at the driver. They took off instantly.

The second car followed shortly, but the third remained right where it was.

More people were firing guns.

Looking back, Sharpner could see men dragging someone in their midst. Blood stained his chest.

Another shot.

Someone fell off a roof.

More screaming.

More gunfire.

More blood.

More pain.

More confusion.

More tears to come.

More darkness.

More sleep to be slept…

No more consciousness.


	3. Sides to a story

When Gohan entered the conference room, the sounds of anxious speech faded.

"Right," he concluded harshly, having just carried his only remaining non-Saiyan friend Sharpner to the hospital wing, "We have a problem."

Some people, namely Vegeta, 18 and Yamcha, found the need to express their mutual thought, which was 'duh'.

Tired as he was from the whole situation, Gohan decided to ignore them.

"A girl died today, by the hands of the Satan's," he continued, and started to walk around the table. Some heads followed him, some focussed on the wall or the table.

"She didn't know of either Saiyan or Satan."

Unsure what to do with his hands, Krillin fidgeted with his keys under the table.

"She died, because she had a boyfriend."

Bulma glanced sideways at Vegeta, and shivered.

"Her boyfriend didn't know of Satan's or Saiyans, either."

Vegeta met his glance coolly, seemingly untouched. Did nothing reach this cold-hearted bastard? Gohan shook the thought off the minute it came.

"And all that, because HIS father," Gohan fought the urge to slam the table full strength, but couldn't stop himself from banging it loudly anyway in rage, "Had a _distinct_, and most of all _uninvolved_ role in our Enterprise."

Having finished his round, Gohan sank down into his chair.

"Well," Vegeta instantly took over, "I think it's obvious that we have to strike back, if we want to save the last shredder of prestige that we have left. Don't they have that driver guy? We should break him out."

"That's madness!" Eighteen shot back, "We can't _possibly_ guarantee the safety of our men if we send them into the depth of their security system!"

"Guarantee?" Vegeta sneered, "You're not _supposed _to be able to! This is _war_!"

"Eighteen is right," Bulma cut in, silencing her husband with a glare, "We should ask for volunteers to do it."

Piccolo laughed without humour.

"You honestly believe any of our men will volunteer to such _heroics_?"

"I could persuade quite a few, I think," Vegeta wandered.

"Oh, come on!" Yamcha interfered, "Those poor chaps don't deserve that!"

"Uh, you guys?" Krillin said hesitantly, "Don't any of you wonder how they knew those kids were dating? I mean, I'm head of Internal Affairs, and no-one told _me_!"

"No one tells you anything," Vegeta said uncaringly.

"_Vegeta_!" Bulma snapped.

He gave her a look that claimed him to be unrightfully accused, which he very well knew he wasn't.

"All I'm saying is," Krillin said, a faint redness in his face, "How long were they dating, anyway?"

Slowly Gohan realised all attention had now slipped to him.

"Two days," he sighed.

All were silent.

"That _is_ impressive!" Yamcha uttered.

"The problem is," Piccolo said, taking control of the heated conversation with his deep solemn voice, "That we don't have any funding any more. There's just enough for payback, I'd say. After that, how will we raise money? Even the volunteers have to eat."

Gohan nodded.

"Bulma?" he asked, "Anything you can sell through your dad?"

"Anything _they_ can't use," Eighteen added.

She thought it over.

"Flyboots?" she suggested.

"No way," Krillin said frowning, "I don't like the idea of Satan's flying in through the window and strangling me in my sleep…"

"Fine, no flyboots…" Bulma said, "How about… Self-recycling paper?"

"Oh, yeah," Yamcha remarked, "That's make smuggling secret messages so much easier!"

"Okay, okay… Well, not the signal-decoder, obviously…"

Vegeta briefly wondered why anyone would want to buy a signal-decoder, if _not_ for some evil organisation.

"I know! I just invented some pills, they're just like normal food, only in the form of pills! No more cooking! Though I still have to work on the taste, maybe Chi-Chi could lend a hand with that…"

Eighteen's face distorted slightly.

"I'd like to _see_ what I'm eating…" she remarked.

"Anyone could poison them," Vegeta added, "Just shoot in some arsenic with a syringe, no one will ever know."

Finally Bulma sighed.

"Customisable capsules!" she exclaimed, halfway desperate.

"There's a market for _that_?" Piccolo asked, horrified.

"You'd be surprised…" Bulma said darkly.

Piccolo shook his head, more to himself.

"Okay," Gohan settled, "Have your dad market them. Vegeta, Eighteen and Piccolo, you can devise a plan to get agent Kendall out. Yamcha, I'm afraid we're going to need replacement after this, get on it. Some _men_ this time, all right? And Krillin, you keep checking how they _knew_. We might have a leak somewhere."

He stood up and prepared to leave.

"And what are _you_ going to do?" Vegeta remarked.

Gohan sighed.

"Unfortunately, it won't be sleeping."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

In a bare room, where the only furniture consisted of two simple chairs, a small table, and a pile of crates, Tom Kendall slowly woke up. For a very brief moment he questioned his whereabouts, but almost instantly after the knowledge that he was captured by the Satan's, knocked unconscious, and apparently tied to a chair afterwards, popped up like a sensation washing over him. With it came the harsh realisation that he was in deep trouble. He had, of course, heard stories of people that had been caught by the Satan's. Depending on their rank, of course, these Saiyans were returned in various states of, well, survival. As for Tom Kendall… He drove a boy to school every day. God, he was doomed, wasn't he?

His heart suddenly skipped a beat.

The boy. Would he still be alive? And what about that sweet girlfriend of his, that Erasa? Did Sharpner find a way to get her back? No, she was dead. Even if it was just because they'd had to take him, Agent Kendall, in. Her fate was sealed the moment they took her. But Sharpner? Did he make it out? Or was he really that useless to the cause?

Tom realised, of course, that this escalation couldn't possibly be blamed fully to him. But he was going to, anyway. After all, wasn't he supposed to safeguard the youngsters? Sharpner, yes, but he had to keep an eye out for Gohan, too. Why hadn't he realised, stupid as he was, that he would have to check in on Erasa every once in a while, too? That was his job, for God's sake!

Dear God… He couldn't die. He couldn't! All the things he still needed to take care of! Oh, good Lord, his mother, what would become of her? If he died, they'd surely kick her out of her apartment, they'd put her in a home, she'd hate that!

Had he even told anyone that he wanted to be cremated instead of buried? Did anyone know? God, how stupid was he? He was in a line of business where you could never be sure you'd live to see tomorrow, and never, _never_ had he spoken about it with his wife! Would they donate his organs? Would they put him in one of those ugly urns and just leave him on the mantelpiece? What would they tell his kids? Would they say he died a heroic death? Or would they twist it into a car accident? He hoped his kids would never find out he was murdered. Tanya could get over it, maybe, but Chris would never let it go. Would he try and avenge him? God, did he screw up everything? Was he ruining his family's lives as well?

Was he nothing but a curse to all that mattered to him?

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

In a less bare room, Gohan waited beside Sharpner's bed for him to wake up, an acted air of patience surrounding him. He'd been sitting here for the last ten minutes, waiting, and it was tearing him up inside. What would happen when Sharpner woke up? Would he be angry? Would he be sad? Would he scream at him? Would he speak at all? Would he cry? Would he attack him? Would he try to kill him? Would he try to kill himself? Would he realise instantly what happened, or would it all strike him down again? Would he… Would he change? Would it be a different Sharpner that woke up today?

Gohan had seen plenty of people change. Yamcha had changed when Bulma married Vegeta. Piccolo had changed when Gohan still lived with him. Vegeta had changed when Goku was named Chief Executive. Vegeta had changed again when he met Bulma. Vegeta had changed when his son Trunks was born. And again had he changed when Goku died. Gohan, too, had changed when his father died.

Virtually _everyone_ changed when Goku died.

And now Stapler and Erasa had died, too. Would Sharpner also change? Gohan feared the answer to be 'yes'.

And what then? Would he be bitter? Would he go mad? Would he be evil? Would he be sad? Would he ever trust him again? And would he find the strength to love again?

"Tell me everything," Sharpner spoke suddenly. He didn't stir as he spoke, and his eyes never even opened.

Ah. Now that question Gohan had expected all along. But would he believe him?

He sighed.

"Your father provided money for our cause," he started, "You were caught by our rivals, the Satan's."

Sharpner shook his head.

"Tell me _everything_. From the very beginning."

Again, Gohan sighed.

"Fine."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

Though Erasa was clearly still in shock, it pleased Videl to see her take in her surroundings in awe. Videl had 'convinced' her father to let Erasa live _and_ get a regular room like the rest of them. The room was in the women quarters, quite close to where the stairs to the dungeon was. Of course, this didn't stop Videl from taking a tourist route.

Finally, after many great halls, quite some switches and two rotating walls, the two teenage girls reached the room that'd be Erasa's. It wasn't exactly luxurious. The small room contained a bed, a nightstand, a desk, and a chair. Period. It was clinical and impersonal. The walls were white. The floor was white. The ceiling was white. The blankets and pillow, too, were white. The rest was made of oak. The only means of privacy it had was the chain on the inside of the door. Of course, there was a bolt on the outside as well, but though Erasa couldn't go out, no one would get in either. Not if she didn't want it.

Videl sat down on the chair. Erasa sunk onto the bed.

"Thank you," Erasa finally said, "For giving me a second life."

Videl shook her head.

"It's nothing. I'm not even sure whether I did it for you."

Small lie, there. Videl _was _sure whether she had done it for Erasa. She hadn't.

Erasa signalled a question mark with her eyes.

"You're the only person my age I know," Videl explained.

Bit bigger lie, that one. She had the displeasure of knowing Gohan, the adolescent leader of her enemies. Of course, she'd never been stupid enough to _really_ get acquainted with him. After all, he believed she was simply Hercule's daughter, rather than the unofficial leader of the Satan's.

Erasa frowned slightly.

"You don't go to school?"

Videl shook her head again.

"Dad reckons it's too dangerous."

She looked Erasa in the eye, and saw disbelief. Not over the fact she didn't go to school. Erasa disbelieved her motives.

"Maybe…" Videl continued, "Maybe I did it just to taunt my father."

_Big _lie. She'd done it purely to poison her mind against Sharpner, so that when they met again, Sharpner would _truly_ be sorry he ever let her down. Already had Videl ordered his father dead, something she would not have done if Sharpner had simply handed him over. She _would_ have made Stapler a hostage. Well, tough luck!

A short silence blanketed between them.

"Tell me about him," Erasa finally said.

"About Sharpner?"

Videl could practically see the lump in Erasa's throat, which she swallowed with difficulty.

"No," she finally managed to say, not able to handle more horror just yet, "Tell me about your dad."

"Short version or long version?"

"Long version," Erasa decided.

Nodding agreement, Videl slid into a more comfortable position.

"My father is Hercule Satan," she begun. She paused briefly, expecting recognition, but none came.

"About fifteen years ago," she continued, "He was General of the World Army."

Erasa's eyes widened.

"_General_ Satan?" she exclaimed.

Videl nodded patiently.

"As you clearly know, he is very famous for conquering those countries that resisted the Great Merging. Some say he is the reason the world is now one whole country."

Erasa nodded fervently.

"But didn't he disappear after the last rebels were defeated?"

"To the world, yes. In truth, he founded the Satan Corporation, to hunt down and defeat the rebels that appeared gone themselves. Lately, they have united as the Saiyan Enterprise, where – "

"The _what_?" Erasa interfered.

"Oh," Videl sighed, "You wanted the REALLY long version."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"Saiyan Enterprise was founded some forty years ago as a means to safeguard peace in the world. Long before the Great Merging of the world, Saiyan Enterprise struggled to stop conflict and open minds to one universal country. It was founded by Vegeta Saiyan Senior, commonly referred to as King Vegeta." Gohan explained.

"King?" Sharpner asked, opening his eyes at last to shoot Gohan a confused look.

"Self-proclaimed, of course," Gohan clarified, "He figured he founded Saiyan Enterprise, so he was the King of Saiyans."

Sharpner lay back and stared at the ceiling.

"King Vegeta had one son, Vegeta Junior, self-proclaimed Prince of Saiyans. Besides Vegeta, he had a step-son Nappa, and an adopted son Goku, whom he found on the streets as a baby. All three are considered pure Saiyans. Of course, only Prince Vegeta actually carries King Vegeta's blood, so he's the only one considered royalty, whereas his two brothers were 'soldiers'."

Gohan eyed his friend carefully. It was clear that he considered all this full-blood royalty stuff complete madness. Didn't he understand this was a concept where all of Saiyan Enterprise was built upon?

"Vegeta, who is actually the middle son, was by far the most bossy. Very intelligent, but with an air of unreliability. Nappa, the eldest, was more into hands-on action. Intelligence was not exactly his strong suit, but his size and strength made up for that. Goku, the youngest, was in fact very peaceful, in contradiction to his brothers. Of course, all three are trained in the craft of war, but Goku despised anything that included the loss of innocent lives. When King Vegeta died, he passed on his legacy to Goku. Prince Vegeta was furious. At that point, he and Nappa crossed over to the Satan Corporation."

Gohan paused, expecting a question about Satan Corporation. None came. Gohan decided to answer anyway.

"Satan Corporation was founded about fourteen years ago by Hercule Satan."

Sharpner nodded. Once out of the fray, he recognised the name from his history class.

"The Satan's, too, supported the Great Merge, but for all the different reasons. They wanted to dominate cultures that were different from theirs, claiming they were acting to suppress rebellion. In fact, this is why we have so many Nameks on our side."

"Nameks?" Sharpner asked.

Gohan hesitated.

"It's sort of a sect, I think. They're not exactly clear about it. Anyway, they were hugely suppressed by Lord Frieza, who – "

"Lord?" Sharpner asked sceptically.

"Self-proclaimed. _His_ dad considered himself king, too. Anyway, he suppressed Nameks, purged them for money, which Nameks don't care for and thus aren't exactly swimming in, and – "

"Who is he?" Sharpner interfered.

"Oh, right…" sighed Gohan, "He was the military leader of Satan Corporation at that time."

"Aha."

"Anyway, long battle, quite some losses, most of them Satan's, blah blah blah, Goku defeated him. Well, we all helped, of course. Oh…"

Gohan stared at a blank spot of wall.

"Did I say? Goku was my dad. He and my mom met in Saiyan Enterprise, and got married soon after. She quit to be a housewife after that."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"Well," Videl continued, "After that, I think you could safely say Vegeta was a changed man. Just one battle royale, and he had fought against family, friends, and enemies, all of them scattered throughout the different organisations. He'd killed Satan's and Nameks alike, and lord knows he tried his best to kill some Saiyans, too. No one knew what side he belonged to anymore. In retrospect, I think he'd been on his own all along. Most Satan's wouldn't have him anymore. Most Saiyans wouldn't have him either. _All_ Nameks hated his guts for killing tenfolds of their peaceful sect."

Videl stopped.

She remembered those few months in which Vegeta still roamed Satan Corporation, not getting any jobs to do for lack of trust. She'd been barely seven years old. It was then that he told her fascinating stories about what he called planet Vegeta, about how it had been destroyed by Frieza. About how Frieza destroyed planets to sell them as moons to other planets. Most of all, he told her about the little Prince Vegeta, son of King Vegeta, who had been forced into killing inhabitants of other planets himself as Frieza pulled the strings on his father. And he also told of Kakarot, the mere soldier, sent to earth as a baby to destroy it when full moon came, and it would transform into a terrible beast. Apparently, this Kakarot had bumped his head somehow and turned into the most loving wonderful kid, and turned out to be Goku.

Of course, Videl now knew it had all been the vivid imagination of a confused Saiyan. For instance, the story told that Frieza had killed King Vegeta. Total nonsense. Vegeta Senior died of old age. Even her father, who'd have loved to claim his death, admitted that. So of course, all this nonsense about ki-blasts and full moons was a lie, too. And the Dragon Balls… Well, obviously he'd known about the orange ball with the two red stars that she possessed, and based that particular story on that.

"Well," she quickly continued, "Actually, he'd met some chick at the Saiyans, the daughter of inventor Dr. Briefs, and married her, so he turned out just fine, crossing over _again_ in the process, the filthy traitor."

Erasa, who'd acquired a dreamy look, visually crashed down again from her cloud.

"Oh," she brilliantly commented.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

Gohan frowned, mostly to himself.

"Don't think Yamcha liked him much after that," he remarked.

"Yamcha?" asked Sharpner.

"Yamcha is one of our older members. Head of Recruiting. He's been with us since he was a kid. He used to be quite the little criminal, but he's devoted to our cause now. He and Bulma were always on and off, dating and fighting. I think you can imagine he was quite pissed when Bulma married another during one of their 'off' periods. Seems okay with it now, though he still hates Vegeta's guts. Well, he's not alone in that, of course. Krillin don't trust him either, and I don't think he and Piccolo get along well… And, of course, Eighteen hates his guts, too."

He paused briefly.

"Oh… Right…" he commented vaguely, "Krillin was dad's best friend, he's chief of Internal Affairs, nowadays. He used to be a great warrior, but everyone kept gaining in on him. Little guy, married to Eighteen, father to a little girl, Marron. Piccolo is one of the Nameks, he used to be evil in his own way. Quite the old-timer himself, actually. He's the main trainer of new recruits. Eighteen… No, I'll get to Eighteen later," Gohan decided.

He grabbed himself a glass of water and drained it.

It pleased him to see Sharpner was now upright and listening intently.

"Right!" Gohan said, his throat tended to, "In the battle with Frieza, he threatened to detonate a bomb capable of annihilating the city, which was home to all the Nameks. We managed to evacuate the whole place in time, but dad stayed to fight with Frieza. The bomb went off, as promised. We couldn't find the remains of Frieza or Goku, but, man, you should have seen the place! We couldn't even _find_ the town square no more, not without GPS!"

Gohan stopped to fight back a stray tear. Shut up, he told himself. Yes, it looked awful. But this wasn't it… This wasn't how his father had died.

Sharpner was first to regain courage to speak.

"You lost your dad, too?" he asked, his voice timid.

In his last attempt to fight back the tears, he shivered violently and straightened his features.

"After that…" Gohan continued.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"After that," Videl continued, "We finally found ourselves a new military advisor: Garlic Junior. He was perfect for our cause. Hated the Saiyans guts, especially Goku and his son. He…"

Videl paused to think.

"We're not _exactly_ sure what happened to him, actually."

"Huh?" Erasa asked confusedly.

"Well…" Videl wandered, "You know how I said Sharpner convinced his dad to trap Garlic Junior in his own Death Zone?"

"Yeah…?" Erasa questioned.

"You see… We don't actually know what a Death Zone _is_."

Erasa blinked.

"You don't?"

"No."

"Ah."

"Yes," Videl stated, "Anyway, he was never seen or heard from again, as goes for his group of mercenaries. Goku reappeared a year later. After that, things were calm for about three years, spare some attempts at revenge by Frieza's relatives. Vegeta fathered a child in that time. And then… I think you _could_ say disaster struck."

You could also say Erasa's attention spiked.

"Dr. Gero, our leading scientist, has in the past converted himself into an android."

Erasa blinked.

"You mean like a _robot_?" she said, horror dripping off her voice.

"Yes, I mean _exactly_ like a robot. He made himself an assistant, 19. After that, he built a set of two teenage androids, 17 and 18. You've met 17, he's the guy with the long black hair. 18 is his blonde sister."

"But…" Erasa muttered to herself, "He looked so _human_…"

Videl nearly chuckled. Nearly. She still hadn't forgiven Seventeen for ratting her out to her father.

"Well, they _are_ converted humans, though God knows where Dr. Gero got them from. In addition, he also made 16, whose sole purpose was to track down and assassinate Goku. But there were… complications. The Saiyans discovered Dr. Gero's lab, and attempted to destroy the androids before they could be activated. In the fighting, android 19 was severely damaged. Dr. Gero had no other choice but to activate the androids 17 and 18 before he could lay final hand on their programming. They turned on him, and nearly destroyed him. They also activated android 16, whose programming was far from completed. I – "

Her voice failed her.

She vaguely wondered why. She'd seen worse things, hadn't she? … But she'd never seen anyone destroyed so cruelly by their own creations… Their own _children_. Was that when she turned on her father?

Well, whatever it was, it was probably best to play it out.

Blame the androids for all those rebels Cell killed… Sure, they were defying all authority by bluntly refusing to speak the Common Language, but she could get a nice gruesome story out of the children Cell seemed to think were just as responsible. Maybe Erasa would even distrust Seventeen, that would be nice…

"So many people died…" she continued, letting her voice drip with much more emotion than she really felt.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"It felt like…" Gohan managed to speak, his voice coated with emotions long forgotten, "Like _I_ was the one dying."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"What… What was it?" Sharpner carefully asked.

Gohan swallowed the big lump that resided in his throat.

"Heart attack. They took him straight to the hospital… During the operation, dad's heart just stopped. They managed to get it going again, but… Well, the doctors said his heart had been standing still for too long. That his brain had been deprived from oxygen for too long. Goku, he… he didn't wake up. Comatose."

He sighed.

"It was about a month before he finally woke up, and in the meantime Cell and the androids had killed hundreds of innocent people already. But he didn't fully return; not right away. When he first woke up, he was telling this nonsense story about how a boy came from the future with the medicine he needed. He realised it was all a dream soon enough though; after two days he never spoke of it again." He added as an afterthought: "As far as I know, anyway."

"But… I thought Cell wanted the androids…? Why'd he kill al those people?" Sharpner asked.

Gohan nodded, as though agreeing to a thought Sharpner hadn't realised that he voiced.

"His goal was to retrieve the androids, yes. Suffice it to say he got side-tracked. And in fact, it worked out perfectly for him. Somehow, he just happened to run into Vegeta, who was trying to persuade to follow him 17 to a safe place. He knocked Vegeta out cold, and brought back 17."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"To be honest, we hadn't a clue why he did it, let alone did we expect it," mused Videl, "At that time, we were convinced that Vegeta had left our midst for good. So, if he was truly happy at the Saiyan Enterprise, why? Why would he just _hand_ us the android?"

She waited, allowing the question to really sink in.

"Um…" Erasa tried, "Maybe he was hoping you'd destroy 17 once you got him back?"

Videl nodded.

"Perhaps. Yet I don't think that's why he did it… Well, to get back to Cell, after delivering 17 to Dr. Gero and ensuring he was safely shut down, Cell tried to hunt down the two remaining androids. He returned 16 without all too much trouble, but as he had just captured the last android, 18, the only female of the trio, he was trapped. The entire staff of Saiyan Enterprise was there, waiting for him, each having brought a considerable escort of troops. He never saw it coming. Gods, he even had his _kids_ with him…"

In a way, Videl was starting to enjoy her little one-man-show. Sure, his kids died. Whatever. She'd hated the brats to her very core, so no harm was done.

Not _really_.

She worked hard to suppress the grin that wanted desperately to creep upon her as she looked Erasa in the eyes, a look of dreadful anticipation obvious in the big blue eyes.

"Cell asked for mercy. He asked for safe passage for his seven small children…. Sharpner just laughed as his buddy Gohan brought up his rifle to start picking them off."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"No, it wasn't like that!" Gohan exclaimed, "They attacked _us_!"

Sharpner raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you said they were nine years old?" he sceptically noted.

"What, never seen seven identical… _clones_ running at you with torture weapons, obviously brainwashed to the core to be even _worse_ than the person whose DNA they share? Don't answer that. If you'd have been there… If you'd have _seen_ it! I bet you you would have done the same."

"No way," Sharpner said with a strange resolve, "They could have been helped. Treated. Easily. There's no need for them to be killed, no matter how far gone they are. They have institutes for people like that."

Gohan shook his head, remembering all too clearly.

"Not for people like _that_. I tell you… They wouldn't stop. I tried to… to spare them. They wouldn't stop!"

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"There was total panic, children running around, Cell crying, people screaming… I'm quite sure some of the troops actually turned on the Saiyans, but they got pretty much the same treatment as the children… He took his time, Gohan. He didn't just shoot them someplace lethal and be done with it… Each of the kids had at least 4 bullets shot into them. He… tortured them. Took out a leg. Took out another. Shot in the air again, to increase on the fear. Started on the other kids… One by one. None survived."

Erasa shook her head in disbelief.

"You're lying!" she exclaimed, "Gohan would never do that! Gohan is _sweet_, and _caring_… Not some kind of… Of…" She searched for words to describe the horror, but couldn't find any.

Videl laughed without humour.

"It is clear," she spoke, "That the Gohan I know and the Gohan you know are two different worlds entirely. Whether it's a good thing or a bad thing that you ended up on the brighter side of his persona, I don't know. I just know that knowing the _real_ Gohan, however shocking, is better – safetywise."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"Don't look at me like that!" Gohan cried frustrated, "I'm not some sort of serial killer… It's not like I don't regret having to kill those children every single day… But not Cell. I don't regret killing _him_ at all."

"… You killed the entire family?"

"No! Well… Yeah, but… Technically, I just killed Cell 8 times. When I said they were clones… They were _clones_. Perfect replica's, but for a few feet in height. Their names varied from Cell One to Cell Seven! … Products of a sick mind, they were. Nothing less, but definitely nothing more…"

Sharpner shook his head.

"They were _children_! No matter how 'evil' they might have been, they were, as you said, brainwashed! Brainwashing can be undone. They could have been _saved_! You had _no right_ to kill them!" he spat out.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"I mean, come on," she continued, "I can see why a military leader would be too important to be left alive, but _surely_ a bunch of eight-year-olds pose no threat to the great Saiyan Enterprise?" The last of her words were spat out in fury.

Erasa was caught off guard for just a moment, clearly confused by the mentioning of Cell's death.

"Oh yeah, it didn't stop with the kids!" Videl exclaimed, "After Gohan had finished off the children, Cell lost it. He charged in blind rage. He tried to shoot Gohan, but his father, Goku, caught the bullet. Gohan was untouched. The minute his father dropped to the floor, he shot Cell."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"When he shot my father, I just… I just lost it. I don't remember very clearly. I just charged straight at him, pinned him to the floor, and started pouncing. After a while, I noticed he'd dropped the gun, right there in my grasp. And so I… I shot him. In the head."

Sharpner shuddered at the thought. He knew very well, that if anyone would point out _his_ father's killer to him, he'd do the same. Instantly. And somehow, that knowledge scared him. He could only imagine how Gohan felt, having actually _done_ it…

Gohan literally shook off his solemn mood.

"He deserved it."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"It's never been calm again since then. It's a constant war between the two of us."

Videl mentally winced at her slip-up. Would she notice? Would Erasa know she had meant 'Gohan and me'?

"Attacks follow up at least once every two weeks," she quickly talked over it. As she spoke, she studied the girl closely. Erasa hadn't noticed. Her cover was still safe.

It wasn't common knowledge that she, Videl Satan, was the acting ruler of the Satan Corporation. It wasn't _supposed_ to be common knowledge, either. To the world, and specifically, to the Saiyan Enterprise, she was just Videl Satan, Hercule's daughter. Just like Sharpner was just Sharpner Skool, Stapler's son.

But no, not like Sharpner was just Stapler's son. Sharpner had been exposed. Sharpner had been sucked into the game. Videl had simply stepped in.

"My dad ordered took me out of school, because of the risks," she continued, "I was home schooled for about a year and a half. Until – "

Her voice choked. She coughed.

"Until she died."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"We knew, of course, that Hercule Satan wouldn't be there. He never showed up at face-offs, and somehow I don't think he came along with stealth missions either. In fact, I don't think he ever left the safety of the mansion, choosing to direct his troops from the inside. A smart decision, of course. He was a target. Still, no one on _our_ side was bothered by such restrictions."

Sharpner frowned slightly.

"Still, you all made it," he noted.

"Goku didn't," Gohan countered.

Sharpner shrugged. On the outside he agreed. Inside, he had his suspicions on how 'out there' they were. Somehow he had a feeling they would only show up after the battle had been fought.

"That's why we were shocked to see Mrs. Satan there."

"That Satan chick thinks I did it," Sharpner butted into the story.

An eyebrow rose.

"Odd," Gohan noted, "Anyway, she got killed."

"How _did_ it happen?" Sharpner asked.

Not one muscle moved when Gohan answered, "Stray bullet."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"They shot her," she said, "In cold blood, they just shot her. It was planned all along."

Erasa was silent.

"Sharpner shot her," Videl said, reading her thoughts.

"But…" she managed to say.

"Why?" Videl finished her question.

She shrugged.

"Too important, I guess. Or maybe they were just trying to break down my father. Didn't work out as planned, though. He's never been more ruthless before then. Ever."

Erasa nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure she believed it. But another question was nagging at her conscience.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"And Vegeta?" Sharpner questioned, though it wasn't really a question, "Whose side is he on now?"

Gohan hesitated a moment, not sure what to say.

"He's on our side."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"And Vegeta? Whose side is he on now?"

Videl wondered briefly what to tell her.

"He's on our side."

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

By the time she arrived, Tom Kendall was already lost.

She was an attractive woman in her late twenties. The way she walked in… showed such _routine_, it cut him. Was this it? Of all people, was she to be his executioner?

She put down the tray she was carrying, and started working all the bolts and clips on the door. The tray was stacked with luxury food and drink. Tom relaxed a little, realising for the first time how tense he really was.

So they were going to interrogate him first. He still had time. They would set the plate just out of his reach, in his tied down condition, and wait for him to snap.

When she bent down to pick the tray up again, he realised she still hadn't looked at him, not _once_. Maybe… If he showed no signs of recognition, and kept to himself… Maybe he'd changed more than she had. Maybe she wouldn't even recognise him…

But while she stood up, he felt that familiar itch in his nose.

He sneezed.

Very loudly.

Recognition dawned on her even before she looked at him.

The tray dropped from her hands, it's contents clattering across the concrete floor.

Tom Kendall had always had a very recognisable sneeze, and now he cursed it into eternity.

When she turned to face him, many things streamed into that expressive face he had once known and love. Confusion and shock at first. Pain was there as well. Anger. One brisk movement of her head, and it was all replaced by a cold contempt.

"Cynthia…" he whispered through the sudden deafening silence.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

Seventeen was just a few doors away when his sensors picked up the sound. He was enduring one of Captain Ginyu's 'humble' and 'short' briefings, to which it was only natural for his attention to spread out, far away from the Captain. Curious to the origins of the sound, he faked a call.

"Yes," he spoke, his hand pressed to his ear (where indeed a transmitter was installed, just not activated), "I'll be right there."

To Ginyu he merely said, "Sir," without bothering to apologise for the welcome interruption.

After leaving in direction of the Mansion, Seventeen doubled back, evading the office with a slight detour.

There was more to that sound than mere clumsiness. And he was determined to find out _what_.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

"Cynthia…"

The word echoed strangely.

"Wha – What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer him. She never had.

"Why are you… Do you work _here_?" Tom asked her.

She just looked at him with that excruciatingly cold contempt.

His breathing was shallow now, and for once, words failed him, too.

"Why did you… Don't you… Did I really…"

_Why did you turn evil_?_ Don't you love life anymore_,_ like you always used to_? _Did I really hurt you _this_ much_?

Cynthia could hear his thoughts. He knew she could. She'd always had a knack for that.

If she even cared, she hid it amazingly well.

_She'd kill him_.

He realised it in but a split second, and he knew immediately that it was true. The way their roads had separated, was unforgivable to her. But he also knew that he stood a chance. If only he could get her to see things differently, to feel, to _hope_… He _might_ see daylight again.

"Cynthia…" he said again, sounding strangely hoarse, "What happened to you?" He made sure his voice was thick with emotions, worry most obvious. The look of sadness in his eyes when he looked at her cost him no trouble whatsoever.

She took a deep breath, and broke eyecontact. Her eyes now strayed to the simple table, where Tom's personal belongings were laid out.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Tom pleaded, "I can help you…"

At this she glanced at him briefly, mock evident in her eyes.

He chuckled, though it took him effort to make it sound amused.

"Yes," he complied, "I know I'm tied down, and can't do anything, but… I can make things right again."

Her hand slid over the table as she walked past its length. She stopped at Tom's wallet. Picking it up with vague interest, she flipped through it.

Realising he wasn't gaining turf just yet, Tom raised the stakes.

"I should never have left you."

Cynthia froze. He could tell. But she covered it well, slipping his wallet into her pocket. She gave him a cold look as she continued down the table, but looked away almost immediately at the hopeful desperation in his eyes. She picked up and put down a number of things, pointedly not looking at the man who betrayed her so many years ago.

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me," Tom lied, "I should never have let you go…"

She picked up his gun, and aimed it at a random stretch of wall.

"… And I regret it everyday," he added as an afterthought.

Almost unnoticeably she shook her head. The gun, too, was pocketed, and she walked over to the stack of crates. 'DYNAMITE' they read, in bold red print.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

Curiously, Seventeen slid his fingers over the closed door. He could hear through it now. Someone was talking, but he couldn't figure out who the other person was. Whoever it was, they weren't responding.

The door was bolted shut from the inside, which in its own way was rather disappointing.

If only he could _see_ what was on the other side of that door…

"Cynthia, I…" the only voice spoke. "I forgive you."

Seventeen frowned. Forgive you for what? Unknown to him, on the other side of that door, Cynthia was asking herself that very same question.

**oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo0O0oo**

When Tom saw the look of sheer indignity on Cynthia's face, his heart leaped. He was getting to her! Then again, a different part of his mind quickly retorted, maybe it wasn't in a _good_ way.

"For… For being a Satan, I mean," he chickened out. He had initially meant to forgive her for the bad break up, but seeing how he kicked _her _out, he didn't think she'd appreciate that.

Cynthia didn't appreciate this, either. She ruthlessly jerked one of the crates open, and pulled out just enough dynamite to blow up a door, or maybe, a man.

"Well, not that I mean you're evil, it's just that…" he stuttered as she resolutely walked over to him.

"I can change!" he called out in a moment of sheer terror, when she jammed the dynamite in between him and the ropes that held him. She shook her head again, and walked away, towards the door.

"I can leave the Saiyans for you! We can go back to how we were… I mean, sure, it's been eleven years, but…"

Cynthia turned around at this. Now her eyes seemed to read nothing but pure unadulterated disbelief. Did he do it? Did he win her over?

He didn't. She pulled out his wallet, and held it open for him to see. In it were several pictures of his wife and two children.

Tom started to look rather wild-eyed.

"I'd leave them for you!"

Once again, she shook her head, more to clear her mind than anything else.

He was getting to her!

"I still love you, Cynthia!"

She clutched here eyes tight shut, like she was trying not to listen. Head still shaking, one hand reached for the gun. _His_ gun. His _own_ gun.

Desperate for his life, Tom reached for drastic measures.

"They never meant anything to me!"

Her eyes shot open, and she actually _recoiled_. Disgusted, she threw the wallet to the side, and raised the gun. _His_ gun. His _own_ gun.

"I love you…" he repeated as a final plea.

She squeezed the trigger.

She'd always see those eyes. Teary, desperate eyes, they were. Deeper down, just below the surface, a strong feeling of betrayal had surfaced. Defeat was there. But what shocked her most in those eyes, those dying eyes, shreds of moments before the bullet hit the dynamite, was blind hatred.

And then the world exploded.

She held her ground in the whirlwind of crimson red and meaty pink. She held her ground in the storm of blood and gore. She held her ground, even though she could see the white splinters of bone poke out of the explosion of fire. She held her ground, despite the bits and bobs she was afraid to identify that splattered onto her.

She held her ground.

When the storm was over, when the air calmed and all that remained of Tom Kendall was no longer airborne, she still stood there, pointing her gun at a point that no longer existed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her muscles started to relax. The gun dropped from her stiff fingers. Her legs unlocked from their firm grip on the ground. Her eyes tore away from those eyes, those eyes that no longer existed, and looked around. The wallet… It was still there, almost magically unharmed in the explosion. Cynthia picked it up, wiping off a piece of what she though might have once been Tom's heart. But no, it wasn't Tom's anymore. Just a piece of heart now… She looked around again, quickly finding the remains of the chair, still flaming amidst the remains of – the remains. Walking over, she dropped the wallet into the flames, and watched the pictures mould away.

"Bravo!"

Cynthia's head spun round at the sudden voice that spoke up. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

Unlike her, the man wore a suit. Trademark sign that this was someone who never left the Satan Manor. But an air of rebellion surrounded him, and it was to be questioned whether he really restricted himself to the inside of the manor.

"So, what did he do? Cheat? Leave? Take your money?" the black-haired man asked with a strange kind of interest.

Still she found herself unable to speak. She hadn't spoken a word to Tom, not even tried to communicate. Somehow she got caught up in the act of silence.

"Well, never mind," Seventeen shrugged, "You'll talk when they come to take you in."

He briefly considered something.

"Then again, I may not want to be seen here…" he pondered out loud.

While she still stood there, too baffled to even _feel_, he started to walk away.

"Oh, by the way," he said, turning around a final time, "You've got a little something…" he said, while guiding his hand to his cheek to indicate her own. She wiped off a bit of brain.

"Yes, that's it," he said almost contently, as if the carnage merely amused him, and then he walked off. Closing and bolting the door behind him, she shuddered.

… She'd been covered in _brains_.


End file.
